Page 21 of Saving Bonnie

“So whatcha gonna do now?”

“Me?” He’s glaring, all bug-eyed.

“Yes, you,” I throw back. “Your job was to receive the stuff and move it.”

He slumps against the seat, his head bouncing on the headrest. “There’s nothing to do.”

“You’re not gettin’ off that easy, Sergio.” He’s stupid if he thinks he can walk away from this. “You better figure something the hell out.”

“Look, Rad, his SUV is across the border.” He pauses, letting the news sink in. “If he had the shit there, it’s gone.”

Desperation is clogging my throat. Why can’t these fuckers just do their job? Every time I’m close to making it to the big time, shit happens.

“How can you not know where he went? He has to have told someone.”

“He was gonna call me when he was done.” Sergio spaces out for a few seconds. “His girlfriend was with him. And he ain’t the type to call his mom.”

“Fuck.”

“If there was a way to know for sure, I’d straight up tell you.” He looks away and snorts. “My chick’s mom is bitching at her about taking money from Bonnie. They’re cousins, so she’s gonna make us pay her back.” He slams his hand on the seat. “Where the fuck am I supposed to get that kinda money? Even if I was working, I couldn’t get that much cash.”

According to my mom, Bonnie made a lot of changes. “Were you there when they put in the cameras?”

“At the café?” He shakes his head. “No. She musta got ’em a few days ago.”

“Okay, so maybe your guy saw them and didn’t go in.”

“I guess.” He shrugs. “If she’s got eyes on the place, how are we going to get the last drop-off?”

I stare out the side window. Mom’s got a lot of contacts. She owes me big-time. And losing this shipment could get me killed. I’ve already got people trying to find me. I don’t need this kind of heat. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. “Okay, dude, give me the layout of the place.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Bunny

“Do you get up at fiveeverymorning to make tortillas?” Tino asks, breaking the bubble of silence as I set my haul on the far end of the table. The large kitchen seems a lot smaller when he’s a few feet away. Maybe it’s having him so close or the way his eyes make me remember how he put me on the bed yesterday…

“Yes,everymorning.” I tear into the sack of flour. It’s so damn hard not to peek when he’s sitting at the other end of the table. “Sometimes more than once a day.”

“Busy,” he says, leaving the word hanging there, like there’s more he wants to add.

“Yeah,” I confirm, needing to fill the silence. I start forming a well in the middle of the flour, keeping to the task at hand. “Some days people just flock in when you least expect it.”

After tossing and turning, I’m too tired to deal with small talk. He’d mentioned he was going to be busy with the alarm guys, but a part of me still expected him to come by. Every little noise woke me up, thinking he was at the front door. Now, I’m on autopilot. I check the base of the well. Yes, that’s baking powder…right? I’m so used to being on my own at this point in the morning.

“Why don’t you buy some ready-made,” he suggests in his off-the-cuff manner. “So you can save some time.”

Normally I’d send him a disparaging look, but, under the circumstances, I’ll let it pass. “We’re known for our monster tacos. They’re larger than a regular tortilla, so they aren’t available ready to cook.” I stretch my index finger and thumb to brackets so he can get an idea of the size.

His attention goes from my hands to my face. “You use them for the plates also?”

“Yes.” I grab the salt, hoping we’re done with the conversation.

“If you offer both regular-sized and monster tacos,” he continues, ignoring my curt answer, “you can adjust the price to increase your profit and give yourself a break.”

My temper starts to simmer, along with the water I put on the burners. Why is it every guy I’m with wants to pull me away from what I’m doing? Don’t they understand this is an integral part of my job. I plop the shortening into the well. “There’s tradition to consider,” I point out as I start working the mix. “My grandma and mom rolled out tortillas every morning since before I was born. I won’t be the one to change that.”

He gives a single nod. “Good enough.”

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